My Blue Heaven
by LadyRedBean
Summary: It's been nearly a year since Grindelwald's arrest, but chaos is still erupting all over America and Europe. Our beloved magizoologist returns to New York to give his newly published book to Tina (and perhaps more), but finds himself in the city for so much more than a visit. This time, the disasters can't be solved by a tube of Swooping Evil. Nothing is ever that easy.
1. My Queenie

A piercing winter wind strangled New York City, prompting people on the streets to hurry home to an inviting fire and a hot cup of cocoa. Tina shivered a bit as she stepped out of the MACUSA headquarters into the evening air and pulled her leather Auror coat tighter around her. The earlier snowfall had left large puddles of half-melted snow on the ground, the smell of wet cement heavy in the muggy city air. Scraggly beggars gathered around the lamp posts, hugging their knees and desperately rubbing their hands together.

It was nearly impossible to breathe in this weather, but lately Tina had been too distracted to notice. It had been nearly a year since Grindelwald's capture, but the wizarding world still rang with peril. The real Graves was nowhere to be found, and mysterious attacks were sprouting rapidly without warning all across America and Europe. Suspecting they had something to do with Grindelwald, Tina had met with President Picquery but received no satisfactory answer.

"Grindelwald is still locked up in prison and is guarded heavily, Miss Goldstein," Picquery had said coldly. "There is no way he could be the root of these attacks."

"Madam President, but his-"

"Miss Goldstein, I as well as the Minister of Magic have dispatched Aurors to investigate the raids. There is absolutely nothing for you to worry about. In the meantime, I suggest you focus on locating Graves."

Tina had bit her lip to keep from protesting any further and nodded. She had tried to hide her irritation as she mumbled, "Yes, Madam President. I'm sorry to have bothered you. Have a good night."

Now she walked quickly to a small hidden alleyway between two brick buildings, her head bowed down to shield her face from the biting wind. This was her usual place to Apparate from work to home as it was only a block away from MACUSA headquarters. She huffed out a little breath, looked cautiously around her for any signs of No-Majs, and whirled hard to her right.

She appeared in the living room of her and Queenie's apartment, breathed in the familiar scent of home, and discovered with a guilty start that the table had already been set. Music drifted from the small radio in the corner, and the fireplace crackled softly, enveloping Tina in warmth and comfort.

Queenie smiled at Tina as the latter hung up her coat. "Don't worry about it, Teenie."

Tina smiled back gratefully. "Smells good," she said, walking towards the stove and peeking into the steaming pot placed on it.

"Our special soup. Wanna taste?" Tina dipped a large spoon into the broth and sipped, savoring the rich flavor. It tasted just like the kind their mother made on freezing nights before she passed, and for a moment, she stood there with the spoon half-raised to her lips, reminiscing. _Tina, pumpkin... come try your momma's famous soup. No, don't put your finger in it, Queenie, you'll burn it, and that won't be good, will it? Bring a bowl over for your daddy, too..._

 _Momma._

Queenie watched her helplessly, tears hovering in her eyes. _I know,_ , they seemed to say. _I know._

"I stopped by Jacob's bakery today," Queenie said quietly after they had seated themselves in adjacent chairs. Tina looked up, about to inquire what came of her visit, but saw her younger sister's blissful expression and decided she didn't need to. Instead, she sighed a little and warned her in a low tone,

"Be careful, Queenie. You know so much more than he does, and you know the Law…" Her voice wavered, and Queenie's eyes darted away from hers, reflecting the flickering candlelight. She blinked quickly and shook her head.

"He already knows, Teen," she insisted. "I can see it in his head."

Tina stared at her numbly, a bubble of panic rising within her. "Knows what?"

"He remembers. Little fragments." Queenie pushed around carrots on her plate with a fork, biting her lip. "He remembers you and me and the creatures. And Newt." Tina started a little at his name. She hadn't heard the name spoken out loud for months, only inside her head. _Newt_. Queenie's face softened. The last few notes from the radio hung in the air, then melted away. A few silent beats passed between them before she said softly, "You miss him terribly."

Tina didn't reply. She could only think about the bittersweet farewell at the dock, the way he had stroked her hair, and his promise to deliver his book in person. She knew it was absurd to harbor such strong feelings after only a few days with him, but she couldn't help but feel drawn to his eccentricity.

Of course, that didn't matter, considering the fact that he hadn't sent a single letter in over half a year.

What if he changed his mind? What if he didn't want to see her again? And- oh, Lord- what if he forgot about her?

"He hasn't forgotten about you," said Queenie firmly, bringing Tina back to reality. She blinked and stared at the seat across from her, half-expecting to see _that_ distinct blue. _Forget it, Goldstein. Just let it go._

"I'm gonna go hit the sack early tonight," she said distractedly, taking her untouched bowl with her as she stood up unsteadily. Queenie's hand shot out immediately and grasped her arm.

"Teenie, he hasn't forgotten," Queenie repeated, her grip tightening. Her words sounded faint and distant, as if she were calling across a sea of fog.

Tina shook her head, attempting to clear out the thoughts that were chasing each other wildly in her mind. "I... I need to go to bed." She set the bowl down on the counter and turned away toward her room, but Queenie caught her other arm and spun her around. Tina glared at their connected hands.

"Teen, you have to listen to me." Desperation crept into Queenie's voice. "I saw. I saw it in his head. I know he's gonna come back, because he's not the type to break promises." Her eyes flickered, a smoky shadow passing over them for a split second before she blinked and smiled. "I never lie to you, and you know that."

"I'd beg to differ."

"Oh, stop that." Queenie dropped her sister's hands, swatting her arm, but laughed anyways. Her eyes still held the same faint smoke in them as she led Tina back to the dining table, reheating her bowl of soup. Tina looked up as a hand settled gently on her shoulder.

"Besides, I'll always be your Queenie."


	2. You're the Career Girl

Beginning Notes:

Back with another chapter... in which our favorite magizoologist returns. Enjoy!

* * *

The next afternoon greeted the sisters with heavy gusts of icy wind and a fine sheet of powdery snow on the ground. It was cold enough to leave the windows nearly opaque with condensation, but that didn't stop Queenie from dragging Tina to Jacob's new bakery.

"Look, isn't it gorgeous?" Queenie tugged on Tina's sleeve and pointed towards the large glass window with the words _Kowalski Bakery_ etched onto it in big gold letters. Displayed in the window were great heaps of tantalizing, freshly baked bread, and a simple chandelier that hung from above illuminated the bread with a cozy, warm light. Woven baskets were piled high with sourdough loaves, looking as though a mere huff-and-puff from a child could knock them over. A tower of Niffler-shaped breads stood in the corner of the window display, surrounded by gold confetti and foil-wrapped chocolate coins. Next to the Nifflers sat a small group of Demiguise pastries, crouched over as though they were ready to slink off and disappear at any moment. Tina laughed a bit when she saw a snake-like roll of bread in the center that was unmistakably the Occamy.

"How in the world did he remember all this?" Tina wondered aloud, shaking her head. Queenie huffed a little.

"Doesn't matter how. Only matters that he remembers us. Let's go inside, it's cold out here." Queenie turned towards the door, but Tina caught her sleeve.

"Queenie, before you go inside..." She tried to phrase her thoughts as carefully as she could, but couldn't find the right words. "Just be careful," she mumbled helplessly as she relinquished Queenie's sleeve.

Queenie gazed at Tina, her excited expression melting away. Tina could feel the little prickle of Legilimency in her mind and let out a long sigh. "Don't take it personally." When her sister's eyes began to water she muttered, "We'll talk later."

Queenie nodded, turning towards the door with less energy. Tina felt guilty, making her sister unhappy, but she also wanted her to be safe. She hesitantly followed her through the door and was immediately wrapped in warmth and the delicious aroma of freshly baked goods.

Jacob looked up from the cash register when he heard the twinkling of the bell at the door. His eyes immediately lit up when he saw Queenie enter the shop, and he beamed at her as she approached him.

"Good morning," he greeted her despite it being nearly five. Queenie grinned back at him, her lively spirit coming back to her again. Those two really did have something between them; it was remarkable that it had only taken a couple days for them to fall for each other. Jacob glanced at Tina, who stood a little behind her sister, and did a double-take.

Tina fought a smile as Jacob stared at her, his brows scrunched together in concentration. "Sister…" he mumbled, scratching a bit at his neck. Finally his mouth quirked up in a little smile, which then spread to a grin that stretched ear to ear. "Hey... Tina!"

Tina laughed then, shaking the hand that Jacob had ecstatically thrust forward. "Hello, Mr. Kowalski. It's nice to see you again." She genuinely was glad she could see him again, but an uneasy, suspicious feeling still lurked in her mind. She couldn't quite put it in words, and as much as she hated thinking about it, it bordered somewhere along mistrust and an unnatural sense of calmness, as if something horrific were to pop up unexpectedly.

"Teen," she heard Queenie whisper. Tina turned towards her sister, ready to explain herself, but all she met was a blank face. She shook her head, repeating gently, "We'll talk later."

"Not that. I understand. But look." Queenie's face broke into a sly grin as pointed to the window. Tina curiously followed her gaze, her brow furrowing. All she saw was a small boy standing on his tiptoes, struggling with all his might to reach an erumpent bread placed on a high shelf. She looked back at Queenie, perplexed.

Queenie huffed and shook her head. "Down the street to the left. Near the bank." Tina stepped closer towards the window, peering outside. The streets of New York City looked the same as always- towering buildings, a grey winter sky, herds of people dressed in dark colors scurrying along the streets. She was about to turn back to Queenie to ask what exactly she saw, but then something caught her eye at the base of the bank's stairs, an unusual flash of peacock blue. Her heart thumping, she stepped quickly to the window and craned her neck, nearly knocking over the little boy.

Then something in her mind clicked. Her heart skipped a beat. Her ears rang. For some reason, she couldn't move from the spot, and only when Queenie had pushed her a little towards the door had she regained her senses. She turned around to say something to Queenie, but the latter only shook her head furiously and hissed, "Hurry!"

Letting out a shaky breath, Tina straightened her coat, pushed the door open, and ran against the wind towards the one color she had grown to miss.

* * *

"British, huh?" The bank teller glanced up at Newt through the bars of the station as he examined the British notes. Newt nodded, nervously fiddling with the handle of his suitcase.

"Whatcha here for?"

"Oh. Erm... a visit. To see a friend." He hesitated on the last word. He and Tina were on friend terms, weren't they?

"Alright. Have a good time in New York. Here you are, sir." The bank teller slid American bills under the bronze metal bars to Newt. "Next!"

Newt turned on his heel, stuffing the money into his coat pocket. He glanced up at the enormous clock on the wall. Half past four. He had plenty of time to properly explore New York- last time was certainly eventful but hectic- but first he wanted to give Tina his book. His heart sped up a little then. He had spent another year of finding and documenting creatures around the world, all of which were incredibly fascinating (and difficult to rescue, especially the Runespoor- he had needed to capture another one, for his other one had mysteriously managed to get all three of its heads bitten off). Before the New York predicament, Newt had been perfectly content in his case of creatures, alone and surrounded by creatures that understood him, respected him, and looked up to him as their parental figure. He loved and cared for them to the best of his abilities, and he thought he couldn't possibly place importance on anything else but them.

Until Tina. Their first meeting was admittedly quite humiliating and poorly timed, which ended up quickly escalating to being sentenced to death. But he had never met a more dedicated and compassionate person than her. Despite his prominent lack of people skills and his occasional recklessness, she had been understanding, fair and forgiving. But most of all, she had made him finally realize that he did matter, that he could trust others and not be judged.

Newt heaved a sigh, glanced at the city sights around him, and stepped through the bank's doors. New York certainly was something- there was considerably more life and excitement than in London, although part of that feeling may have been due to the chaos of the previous year. He descended the bank's stairs (now void of any Second Salemers) and slowed down as he reached the base of the stairs. Was the Goldsteins' home to the left? No, that was to MACUSA, and Newt certainly did not want to make another trip there.

As he made his way down the street to his right, he felt his suitcase knock heavily into someone. He turned around, about to apologize, but then someone had grabbed his arm and the next thing he knew everything had gone dark; the air was forcefully pressing on him and he suddenly appeared in a vaguely familiar nook of a brick building.

Then he registered the face in front of him and for a moment, he felt as if all air had fled from him.

"Tina."

The Auror flashed him a shy smile. "Mr. Scamander." Merlin, he had missed her smile. He hadn't had the chance to see her do it often during his first time in New York, but when she did, she was like a new person- it lit up her entire face, and her eyes shone brilliantly.

"You aren't going to haul me in for a Section 3A, are you?" he joked feebly once he had properly caught his breath. Tina laughed a little.

"Not this time."

Newt was suddenly aware that she still had her hand gripped on his arm, and jolted a bit in surprise. Tina dropped her hand. "Sorry," she mumbled, wringing her hands a bit.

"No, it's fine, it's just-" Newt tried desperately to express to Tina that it wasn't the touch that offended him- in fact, he wasn't offended at all- it was just that simply her presence left him feeling as though he were in a daze.

Instead, he could only stare at her, admiring her lovely brown eyes in the afternoon rays of sun, and he knew he must look incredibly vapid but not much caring. He opened his mouth again, wanting to clarify himself and hopefully not unleash another disastrously incoherent sentence, but stepped back, aghast, when he saw Tina's eyes go wet.

"You're crying," he said, wanting to kick himself. "I- I am truly sorry if I said something-"

Tina shook her head and mercifully gave him another smile. "Newt, you didn't say anything. I'm just… I'm so glad to see you again."

Newt nodded, a bit breathless. "I'm very glad to be back _." I missed you._ For a long moment they both gazed at each other, not saying anything.

Finally Tina jerked her head towards his suitcase on the ground. "Anything in there?" she asked wearily, and Newt knew she was referring to his creatures. He smirked and scratched at his neck a little.

"Not exactly, no…"

"What in the world does that mean?"

"Nothing for you to worry about." He scooted his suitcase a little closer to him with his foot and smiled sheepishly. "I'll show you later."

Tina looked at him dubiously, but prudently said nothing. She took his arm again after glancing cautiously up at him.

"Let's go home."

* * *

"When did you arrive in New York?" The two had Apparated to a hidden spot a block away from the Goldsteins' apartment and were now hurrying along the street. The wind had died down a little, but every breath Tina took in still felt much like she had swallowed a small glacier.

"Quite late this morning. I had to go through customs, which took a while, and I wanted to get my book to you as soon as possible."

Tina slowed as she reached the brownstone and turned to Newt. "You probably already know-"

"No men on the premises," finished Newt. "But from what I recall, this is not the first time you have broken the rule." He looked at Tina through his wavy caramel hair, and Tina felt her cheeks warm.

"Well, Mrs. Esposito doesn't need to know," she replied, and led Newt quickly through the building to her door. Before she had a chance to unlock it, however, the door flew open. Queenie stood in the doorway, beaming at Newt.

"Mr. Scamander!" She grabbed his arm and pulled him inside the apartment, and Tina tried not to laugh at the mildly horrified expression on his face. She followed them inside and shut the door, pulling off her coat.

"We're all so glad you're back, Mr. Scamander," Queenie was telling Newt happily as he set down his suitcase by the door. "I'm sure Jacob would love to see his friend again."

Newt froze. "Jacob?"

Queenie nodded, smiling widely. "Yeah, Jacob. He remembers you." She studied Newt's face; Tina knew she was reading his mind and sighed.

"We'll all have a talk later." She flicked her wand at the cupboard, and three plates soared out and settled themselves on the wooden dining table. She turned to Newt. "You'll stay, won't you?"

He nodded, looking a little nervous. "If that's all right with you." Queenie huffed at him and squeezed his arm.

"Of course. We've been waiting forever for you to come back, haven't we, Teenie?" Tina turned her face away and felt the heat rising to her cheeks. _Forever_ was correct, but she wouldn't admit that to Newt. Instead she Summoned napkins from a drawer to the table and smiled at Newt.

"Sit down, Mr. Scamander." _We're not gonna poison you_ , she finished in her head, grinning to herself as she lit the candles with her wand. Queenie laughed quietly from behind her.

"We can't wait to hear about your travels," gushed Queenie as she ladled peas onto everyone's plates. Everyone seated themselves, Newt in the same chair he had sat in last year. He answered,

"I'm sure you can find all the information in my book."

Tina glanced up at him from her plate and noticed with alarm that he had prominent dark circles under his eyes. She tried to sound nonchalant as she inquired lightly, "Where are you staying?"

Newt flushed a bit and stabbed a slab of chicken breast. "There's a decent hotel nearby. The Algonquin Hotel. I'd prefer staying in my case, but..." He looked up at Tina. "It's rather easy to lose track of time in there."

She nodded. "I can imagine." The beautiful environments Newt had recreated for his creatures and the creatures themselves were breathtaking; last time she had been down in his suitcase, she felt as if she could stay there forever.

After the table had been cleared, the three migrated to the living space's couch. Newt picked up his suitcase and opened it, which thankfully did not release a barrage of beasts. He held out a dark red leather-bound book. "As promised."

Tina took it from him, running her fingers along the front cover and admiring the gold letters. _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them._ As she opened the book up to a chapter about thunderbirds she could hear Newt's gentle voice in the words on the page. She looked up at him, feeling her eyes burn.

"It's wonderful," she said, smiling through her unshed tears. Newt looked slightly relieved, and shrugged.

"It hasn't quite covered everything I've documented; I haven't gotten the chance to fully explore some species." He licked his lips and looked away, his leg bouncing.

Queenie, who had kept silent during the exchange, suddenly said loudly, "I'm beat. I think I'm gonna take a quick nap. See you two later." She leapt up from her seat, patted Newt on the shoulder and winked at him, and kissed Tina on the forehead before heading to her bedroom.

"How are you, Newt?" Tina asked him quietly. She couldn't help but notice his restlessness despite his obvious lack of sleep. She genuinely worried about his health, and she had a sneaking suspicion that he was involved in protecting the Ministry from Grindelwald's control.

Newt sighed and ran his hands over his face. "To be completely honest, not very well. We've been working like mad in the Beasts division, they've been thinking about employing dragons again in case another war breaks out." He looked even more exhausted than ever, and Tina moved to squeeze his hand. He tensed for a second, and Tina froze as well. She'd gone and done it again, she thought bitterly. But then he relaxed and surprised her by returning the pressure.

For a long moment, they sat side by side, their hands laced together. Newt turned to face her. "What have you been doing in the meantime?"

Tina bit her lip and stared at their hands. "I'm on the team to locate Graves. He's still missing," she added wearily when she saw Newt's troubled face. She hesitated before saying in a lower voice, "They think... they're sure he's already dead."

Newt's throat bobbed as he stared at her with his wide hazel eyes. "They do have a reason to think so," he replied slowly. "If Grindelwald was using Polyjuice Potion for a good amount of time, Graves couldn't possibly have been treated very well."

Tina frowned and studied her feet. She wasn't ready to give in to that possibility just yet, but...

"Tina," she heard Newt say quietly, "You are more than qualified. They didn't put you on the search team just to keep you busy." He paused for a moment, then continued, "You feel as if you're being pitied and only used as a filler. Is that correct?"

She swiveled her gaze towards him sharply, searching him. But truth lay in every line in his face, and she sighed defeatedly. "You read minds better than Queenie sometimes," she told him. Newt smiled a little sadly.

"I believe that if they placed such a compassionate and ambitious woman like you on the team, then your duty must be a very important one."

Tina felt her tears brim up to dangerous levels, and tried not to make her sniffling obvious. She had never gotten this emotional in front of near-strangers, but then again, Newt didn't feel like a stranger to her. In fact, she felt as if she had known Newt all her life.

She felt a hand brush her cheek, and looked up at Newt breathlessly. His lovely eyes gazed into hers, and she without thinking she laid her own hand on top of his. "Newt…" she barely whispered.

He dropped his hand, and Tina did everything to stop herself from grabbing it again. "I... I should go," he finally mumbled as he stood. "Thank you for the meal. For everything."

Tina got up unsteadily beside him. "Did you get checked in at the hotel all right?"

Newt nodded, looking a little dizzy. "I... thank you," he repeated, staring at her intensely. She plastered on a smile.

"My pleasure. Are you... Do you have plans tomorrow?" she asked, trying not to sound desperate. Newt shook his head, picking up his suitcase.

"I don't, actually. Unless... you would like to go anywhere?"

Tina felt her heart thud. "Where do you want to go?"

"Perhaps the park, under considerably less stressful circumstances." He scratched his head sheepishly, and this time Tina smiled genuinely.

"Great. How about ten o'clock tomorrow morning?" Tomorrow was a Sunday, so she could take a short break from her investigative work.

Newt nodded. "Yes, that'll work just fine." He let out a puff of breath and looked around the room before turning to Tina. "Have a good night, Miss Goldstein."

"Night, Mr. Scamander."

He took one last glance at the room, then at Tina, then Disapparated with a crack.

Without his presence, the room felt strangely empty and lifeless, and Tina flopped down onto the couch. She subconsciously brushed her fingers on the side of her face Newt had touched, and heaved a long sigh. She couldn't quite believe that this was only the third day she had spent with Newt in total. She'd forgotten to ask when he was returning to England, but shoved the question away. He probably would never bother to visit New York, anyways, she thought morosely. He'd only come back this time to give her a _book._

"He'd never leave you forever, Teen."

Tina whipped around, her heart racing. "Queenie!"

Queenie, who had entered the room noiselessly and stopped behind the dining table, wrung her hands and smiled crookedly. "I'm sorry, it's hard not to overhear your guys' thoughts." She stepped closer and lowered her voice. "Especially when Mr. Scamander can't stop thinking about kissing you."

Tina felt as if she were going to pass out any second. "I'm sorry, what?"

Queenie rolled her eyes. "Are you seriously _that_ oblivious?"

"Oblivious? To what?" Tina fought to catch her breath as her head spun wildly.

"You know what? Nevermind. But you haven't seen the way he looks at you?" Queenie shook her head in disbelief.

Tina tried to wrap her mind around what Queenie had said. Impossible. "I… I need to go to bed," she replied weakly, attempting to stand with wobbly knees.

"Teenie, don't try to hide it. You like him, and he likes you." Queenie took her sister's arm and slowly led her to her bedroom. "Stop doubting yourself," she added sternly, pushing Tina onto her bed. Tina sighed and stretched herself out on the covers, not bothering with her shoes.

"I can't help it. I feel like I can't prove myself at work."

"You don't need to, honey. I think everyone knows you're more than willing to serve your duty as an Auror." Queenie used her wand to remove her makeup. "After all, you're the career girl."

Tina didn't reply. She thought about the time when she was demoted, how devastated and useless she had felt, how outraged she was about Mary Lou Barebone. She closed her eyes. Newt was the one who had convinced Madam Picquery to reinstate Tina as an Auror.

Queenie's eyes softened. "Try to get some rest," she advised, gently shutting the door.

But for the next few hours, Tina couldn't fall asleep, even after she had changed into her nightclothes and read some chapters of the least interesting book on the shelf. In the end she decided to read Newt's book, and found herself on a chapter regarding Occamies.

 _A plumed, two-legged winged creature with a serpentine body, the Occamy may reach a length of fifteen feet. It feeds mainly on rats and birds, though has been known to carry off monkeys. The Occamy is aggressive to all who approach it, particularly in defence of its eggs, whose shells are made of the purest, softest silver._

Tina smiled as she studied a moving illustration of an Occamy in its nest, its beak opened wide and shimmering wings spread out. She frowned, wondering how Newt managed to sneak his case full of creatures into New York again, and decided to ask him about it tomorrow at the park. For now, as she finally yawned and settled into her covers, she would spend the last few hours of the night in a blissful state of nothingness.

* * *

Whew! I hope this chapter didn't prompt you to nod off immediately. I'm also aware that I'm probably perilously incorrect in the bank portion- I did quite a bit of research, but couldn't find anything about currency exchange between the US and the UK. Also, for the bit about the Occamy, I used an excerpt from the textbook _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them._ I promise there will be heavier plot in the next few chapters. I also have this story on AO3 (I update that one first). As always, thank you so much for reading and feel free to leave feedback!


	3. Wouldn't It Be Easier to Just Let Go?

The next morning was slightly warmer than the previous day; the snow had melted quite a bit, leaving puddles everywhere on the streets, and the gusts of wind had calmed their icy temper. Still, Tina shivered as she neared Central Park, and she wasn't sure whether it was from the cold or from her nerves.

She smiled when she saw Newt standing by a large fountain on which a statue of an angel was placed. He looked up as she approached, and smiled at her. "Good morning, Miss Goldstein."

She studied his face. He looked just as worn out as last evening, but she still asked politely, "Did you sleep well, Mr. Scamander?"

Newt shook his head, his cheeks reddening. "No. I was… I couldn't sleep." He sighed, and Tina laced her hand through his.

"We don't have to stay here, you know. If you're tired…"

He shook his head again, staring at their hands. "I want to stay here… with you," he mumbled. His face flushed a darker shade of red and examined his shoes. "I mean, if you aren't interested, you can certainly pick a different place-"

Tina gently turned his face towards her with her hand so that he was looking at her. "Newt, I'm perfectly fine being here. You wanted to see the animals, right?" He nodded, his eyes flitting nervously across her face.

"Then let's go."

* * *

"You know, I don't think I've ever seen so many lions trapped in the same enclosure. It's terribly small," he complained to Tina after an hour or so of examining the zoo animals. She sighed and looked at his pouting face.

"I'm afraid we can't do anything about it right now." She brushed her thumb gently over his knuckles. Newt huffed a little.

"Someday I will."

Tina couldn't help but smile a little at his determination. "I'm very sure you will." She looked around at the same old blanched trees, the same old lake, the same old… New York. The city, which Tina had formerly thought to have everything she could possibly want and need, felt all at once dreary and monotonous. Before she could stop herself she told Newt,

"I'd rather be down in your case."

She immediately regretted saying that and was about to backpedal when Newt turned to her with a surprised face. "My case?" he echoed.

"No, nevermind, just-" Tina shrugged it off, then glared at Newt. "How did you manage to smuggle it anyways?"

He looked a bit sheepish as he replied in an undertone, "Shrinking charm. It doesn't affect anything inside," he added hastily as she raised an eyebrow. "But… I'd gladly take you to see the creatures. I just never thought you'd want to see them again, after that fiasco."

"Well, it wasn't exactly their fault they wreaked havoc in New York City," she reminded him a bit sharply. He bit his lip and tilted his head.

"You do have a point there." Then his hazel eyes lit up. "If you're amenable, I'd like to take you to see them right now."

Tina gaped at him. "Um, _right now?_ " What the hell- in the middle of Central Park, in plain view of No-Majs?

Newt seemed to read her mind, and shook his head quickly and smiled. "Certainly not this instant in this very spot. The suitcase is in my hotel room." He paused. "Well, it's inside another suitcase."

Tina rolled her eyes slightly and realized with a jolt their hands were still entwined. Instead of releasing his hand, she held on tighter and smiled up at him. She hadn't remembered smiling so often before; after her parents' deaths, she felt as if she could never be completely happy. But Newt inspired a sort of liveliness and eagerness in her, something that was always alien to her until now.

"I'd like that. Very much."

* * *

"Come on down," called Newt from inside his suitcase. Tina peeked through the Expanded suitcase, feeling rather silly as she unskillfully clambered down the ladder. The first time she'd done it, she nearly tripped and fell; definitely not one of her most graceful moments. Then again, she'd always been clumsy- not like Queenie, who possessed a delicate dancer-like mien.

"Hello," she greeted Dougal the Demiguise as he scampered towards her. Dougal gave her a very happy look, then scurried away as Newt stepped towards her, holding out a pair of dragon-hide gloves and a small metal bucket.

"I'd be very grateful indeed if you might feed the Diricawls- they're rather difficult to feed, for they're always popping in and out of the place- but if you squat a bit and scatter the feed, they'll come along." Newt ran his fingers through his wild hair as he looked upwards to the clear open sky. "I'll need to get going with the Runespoor- its heads have recently gotten into some rather nasty fights."

Tina looked curiously at the gloves, wondering why she would need heavy-duty equipment to feed such innocuous creatures, but drew them on nonetheless. She approached the Diricawls cautiously, not wanting to alarm them, and crouched down to feed them. She nearly jerked her hand back when a baby Diricawl pushed its beak against her palm, and it squeaked happily as she laid down more feed on the ground.

After she had finished feeding the Diricawls, Tina got up and rubbed her sore knees. She decided to further explore the case while waiting for Newt to finish up with the Runespoor. She passed through the rainforest, her feet squelching in the damp earth beneath her, reaching out to feel the extraordinarily smooth trunk of a tree with purple and blue leaves sprouting from its lofty, waving branches. Billywigs buzzed in and out of the trees, their blue shells catching the light as they flitted around Tina. _Just a moth_ , she thought, laughing to herself as she stepped towards an entrance of another habitat. Pushing back a curtain of hanging moss, she couldn't help but gasp at the scene set before her eyes.

A vast, rippling ocean was splayed across the length of the Expanded case, reflecting the deep blue sky like a giant mirror. The waves danced and tossed among themselves as though flaunting the jewels the sunlight seemed to cast on the water. Giant rocks jutted out from the silky waters, their stillness contrasting sharply with the rolling waves. Ramoras leaped from the ocean, their silver scales glinting in the morning sun, then dived back into the water without creating a single splash. Great, purple, shimmering birds flew overhead, their beating wings creating winds powerful enough to knock a child off their feet. An endless stretch of colorful pebbles was strewn across the shore, allowing a solitary Jobberknoll to camouflage seamlessly. A small cottage sat a little way on the side, its open curtains revealing a small light in the window.

Tina took a few steps forward as she took in the beauty of the beach, awestruck. She was surely dreaming. Never in her life had she seen such a breathtaking paradise, and if she could choose one place to spend the rest of her life, she would, without hesitating, choose this one.

She heard shoes crunching on the sand behind her and jerked around to find Newt, looking quite disheveled but charming, standing behind her. He was looking at her in a strange way, and Tina glanced self-consciously down at her shirt. She'd gotten quite a bit of dirt and grass on it while trying not to crash into any trees on the way here, and was sure she looked like a complete mess.

She looked up at Newt again, feeling a slight heat rise to her cheeks. "Is there something wrong?"

Newt shook his head quickly, the strange expression on his face melting away. "No, nothing. You're finished with the Diricawls, I presume?" Tina nodded. "If you don't mind, I have something to show you. Come along." She followed Newt closer to the shore.

He put out his hand to stop her as they reached the lapping waves. "Stay there," he ordered as he waded into the ocean until the water was up to his waist. He drew out his wand, placing the tip on the surface of the water, and drew a large arc around himself, tracing it over and over again as he chanted words Tina couldn't understand. Large ripples silently appeared several yards away from Newt, and Tina had to stop herself from screaming as a huge snake suddenly emerged from the waters, towering above them, its long neck swaying as it studied Newt with fierce eyes. Horns protruded from the dragon-like head, and a gleaming blue jewel was embedded in the center. Its black scales glittered as it moved closer, flipping its horned tail.

It bent its head down to nuzzle Newt's outstretched hand, and Tina shook her head in amazement. "A horned serpent," she breathed. Isolt Sayre, one of the founders of Ilvermorny, had named her house after this creature after befriending one. Newt looked over his shoulder at Tina.

"I met this one a couple years ago in China. She was badly injured- I suspect hunters had tried to harvest the jewel. The jewels are very valuable, they're believed to carry some sort of power that allows you to fly and become invisible at will." He stroked the serpent's scales. "Nothing comes easy, though. I'm sure those hunters learnt their lesson, didn't they, Amica?" He smiled fondly at the horned serpent, and Tina couldn't help but feel a rush of affection for him. This was Newt in his natural state, surrounded by his creatures and the works of his passion and love. Some part of her desperately longed to be included, but she pushed the thought away roughly and told herself sternly that she was overstepping. His creatures were his priority, and nothing would surpass that.

Newt patted the serpent one last time, watching her slink gracefully below the surface, then made his way back to the shore. Tina's face flushed hot when she realized his pants were sopping wet and quickly looked the other way, feigning interest in a group of rather revolting Chizpurfles. Newt thankfully didn't seem to notice, and cast a Drying charm over himself as he told Tina, "I suppose we should go back up now." He gestured above him, and it slowly dawned on Tina that they were standing in a magically Expanded suitcase that was currently on the floor of a rather unglamorous and ordinary New York hotel room, not in some magnificent island far, far away.

Newt nodded, as if he could hear Tina's thoughts. "This way," he said, leading her back towards the moss curtain and cupping her elbow as she made her way unsteadily across the rocky ground. She took one last sweeping glance at the ocean, then ducked under the curtain and climbed the ladder.

"I can't believe that you made all of that for your creatures," she said with awe and disbelief as they hopped up from the suitcase and onto the floor of the hotel room. Newt shrugged and said lightly,

"I try my best to make them feel at home. It's my job."

Tina scoffed and shook her head. "Don't downplay it, Newt. It's incredible, what you're doing." She took a step closer to Newt, and he stared at her with wide hazel eyes.

"I- I'm doing all right, I suppose," he stuttered, still gazing at her. He fidgeted a bit with his hands before, to Tina's immense shock, he cupped her jaw gently with a shaking hand. His thumb stroked just under her eye, and for a second Tina forgot how to breathe.

"That's an understatement," she replied breathlessly. _Get a grip, Goldstein._

Queenie's words from last night suddenly flooded her mind. _He can't stop thinking about kissing you. You haven't seen the way he looks at you?_ She tried to push those thoughts away. She was an Auror. She couldn't let herself fall from the platform she had worked so hard to climb on top of, no matter how much Newt made her want to. These feelings she had- they were new. But new could also mean dangerous.

He lowered his hand and glanced away towards the window. The sky had lightened considerably, and the clouds had made way for the sun to show itself for the first time in days. "Shall we head back?" he asked Tina. She nodded, still feeling a little dizzy.

They meandered along the sidewalk, making occasional small talk but mostly keeping to themselves. Tina could feel herself drifting away; her lack of sleep over the past few months had finally caught up to her, and all she wanted to do when she got home was take a long nap. She turned the corner to a deserted alley, heading towards her usual Apparating spot, when she saw two vague figures in the same alleyway from the corner of her eye. She squinted at the taller blonde figure. He looked vaguely familiar, and she had the sneaking suspicion that she had seen him somewhere, perhaps in the paper. He drew out of his pocket something that was undoubtedly a wand. She froze and stepped back quickly, pressing herself against the wall to hide herself from view. She motioned frantically at Newt to do the same.

"I don't know, I don't know anything about it," pleaded a trembling voice. "I haven't heard of that name before, I found work here only a few weeks ago-"

"Liar!" hissed the other voice, unmistakably male, deep with rage. "Someone told you about it, you know where he is. Tell me what they said!"

"I already told you, I have no idea who and where he is." The voice grew higher with panic. "Please, please, my wife-"

" _Stupefy!_ "

Suddenly there was a blinding flash of blue light, visible even from the angle Tina stood at. She muffled a gasp, her mind buzzing with shock, and when she heard footsteps approaching she grabbed Newt's arm and Disapparated.

They landed a half block away, and the man was still in sight, his back turned towards them as he hurried down the street. "We have to follow him," Tina muttered to Newt as she pulled him by the arm. He gulped and nodded, casting a Muffling charm on both of them.

"The Muggle-"

"We'll deal with that later," Tina said through gritted teeth. Right now they had to figure out what exactly the man's intentions were. Thoughts chased each other wildly in Tina's head. _Section 3C, Stunning a No-Maj without an official warrant_ , she couldn't help but think as she pushed herself to close the distance between her and the man. She turned to Newt and said sharply, "Stay here, will you?" Without waiting for an answer, she spun around and pursued the man alone, ignoring Newt's shocked expression.

She was nearly out of breath, and she slowed down, knowing her panting would alert the man of her presence. Her steps faltered as he turned towards a dead end. Something wasn't right. Suddenly a wave of dread washed over her and she yanked out her wand just as he whipped around and shouted,

" _Expulso!_ "

She managed to block it and shot a nonverbal curse at him, her heart thumping wildly in her chest. An angry red mark immediately appeared on his jaw, spreading towards the other side of his face. She dodged a heavy metal pipe that the man had directed at her and gripped her wand tightly as she slashed a deep line through his back, exposing some skin beneath. He snarled and hurled a hex at her. This time it grazed her face, and she felt her cheek flare up.

"You're always throwing yourself in harm's way, Miss Goldstein," he growled. "You do it only for the attention, for the praise."

Tina clenched her teeth, her eyes stinging as she fended off another curse.

"You want to be recognized as the best Auror." The man stepped forward, lashing his wand down towards her. "But you can't, Miss Goldstein. Not if you keep playing these games." Tina threw herself on the ground, narrowly missing the shot. "Wouldn't it be easier to just let go?"

 _Don't listen_ , she urged herself, and opened her mouth to shout a Disarming spell.

" _Petrificus Totalus!_ "

A voice yelled behind her. The man's limbs instantly snapped together, and he fell to the floor with a sickening crack. Tina jerked her head around and found Newt staring at her, panting.

" _Incarcerous,_ " he said in a shaking voice, pointing his wand at the man. Thick ropes shot out from the tip of his wand and snaked around the still body. Tina stood up unsteadily, leaning against the wall for support. Her face suddenly felt very numb and she discovered with dismay that she couldn't speak. _The damned curse,_ she thought bitterly. Newt immediately slung her arm around his neck, examining her face anxiously. Tina hated feeling this vulnerable, but she let him support her anyway.

"We… MACUSA," she managed to get out, finding it extremely frustrating to not be able to talk properly. Great, now she just looked like some blithering idiot.

Newt nodded, his eyes still roving over her face. He pointed his wand again at the man, swishing and flicking just so. " _Wingardium Leviosa._ "

* * *

"Miss Goldstein. Mr. Scamander." Madam President greeted them coolly as she stood up from her desk. She glanced at Tina. "Any news of Graves?"

Tina flushed and stammered, "Actually, we found this man. Violating section 3C." With a wave of her wand, the Invisibility charm melted off, revealing the still-unconscious body of the man. Madam Picquery stepped towards the man, staring intently at his face.

"Marcus Rosier," she breathed. She raised her head, her dark eyes burning. "He's a wanted Dark wizard."

Tina stiffened. She'd read that name somewhere in some research she'd done on the wizard-caused destruction of No-Maj civilizations. _Marcus Rosier._ She made a mental note to go through the file cabinets for his name later. Meeting Picquery's gaze, she tried her best to keep the tremble out of her voice as she announced, "This man- Rosier- we caught him Stunning an innocent No-Maj." She intentionally left out the part about his taunts. _I'm better than that,_ she'd reassured herself weakly.

Madam Picquery nodded slowly. "Thank you, the both of you. I will make sure he is questioned. Now get out of my office." She eased herself down onto her tall chair, an uncharacteristic expression of exhaustion crossing her face.

"Yes, Madam President." Tina grabbed Newt's arm, leading him out the office. She wanted to get out of there as fast as possible before Madam Picquery could upbraid her for not pursuing the Graves investigation. A wave of guilt surged through her. Percival Graves could be dying right now, or being tortured, or… already dead.

And she wasn't even doing anything to stop it.

Angry tears stung her eyes, anger directed towards herself, towards Rosier, towards Grindelwald. _Tomorrow,_ she promised herself. Tomorrow she would commit herself fully to the case and gather as much useful information as she could. She would find Graves, dead or alive.

You could never tell, though, what could happen before tomorrow.


	4. It's Alright to Let Yourself Fall

A/N: Buckle up, friends.

* * *

 _More._

His rattling coughs echoed off the tall white walls surrounding him, but his hearing had long fled from him. He'd always secretly longed for peace and quiet during his time in the Auror offices. But not like this.

Hanging from the ceiling was a blinding white light that never turned off. There was no way to tell if it was night or day.

But that didn't matter, either, for darkness had slowly begun to lay its unforgiving hand over his eyes.

As Percival Graves laid lifelessly on the pale, rigid bed, his craving rose inside of him. They'd been feeding him something- a substance potent enough to reduce him to clutching at addiction's hook for dear life, but just enough to leave him with a functional mind, an awareness of his suffering.

They could whip him, tar-and-feather him, use the Cruciatus curse on him as they liked if they had forced enough of the substance down his throat to leave his mind numb. He wouldn't feel a single thing.

But awareness of pain was something Graves could not bear.

He gradually sat up, feeling every muscle in his body ache terribly, staring blankly at the clean wall in front of him. _Too clean._

A sudden surge of hysteria jolted through his veins, sending him scrabbling on his knees to the wall opposite him. _Too clean._ He clawed at his face, desperately trying to force some sort of physical pain into himself, then, with a strangled roar, drew his head back and brought it against the wall with a sickening crunch. As he slid slowly to the floor, his shoulders heaving, a smear of blood lingered on the wall, a stark contrast to the bleached background.

Graves lifted his head again, a frenzied fire jumping behind his glazed eyes. The blood only left behind a tainted speck compared to the towering walls that mocked him with their deceiving purity. His mouth opened again, a scream threatening to rip from his throat. Instead, as rivulets of tears burned his cheeks, he thought dizzily about the only Auror who would've genuinely cared, who would've selflessly given up her life to save another's without a moment of hesitation. A single word formed silently on his lips.

"Tina."

* * *

Tina stared helplessly at the enormous stack of papers Abernathy had hauled onto her desk. "You'll be staying in today," he told her coolly.

"Sir, I was supposed to be on the search team-"

"Nevermind, Goldstein, that can wait. For now, you can look through these and see if you can find anything linked to the attacks."

"In all due respect, sir, my assignment-"

Abernathy's icy glare silenced her. Glancing at the clock on the wall, he turned on his heel to leave, but before he shut the door, he called over his shoulder,

"Don't dig too deep, Goldstein."

And with a wink he slipped out of her office. Tina stared after him, baffled. Lately Abernathy had been acting strangely- less uptight about her and Queenie's whereabouts, more interested in the actual work they'd been doing. She shook her head, sighing, and took up the first leaf of paper from the pile.

 _Rappaport's Law: Living With Non-Magic Folk in the 20th Century._

Tina scoffed in disbelief. She was an Auror- of course she knew Rappaport's Law. They lived in a city swarming with No-Majs. Hell, she could've gotten arrested for keeping one by her side during the frantic hunt for Newt's escaped creatures. She tossed the article and began sorting through the papers, setting aside some helpful-looking ones and making another pile for the less useful.

Several hours of monotonous work was enough to wear down Tina's patience and energy, and the situation was made worse by the fact that she had lost even more sleep recently. She glanced briefly over another paper and prepared to lay it on the rapidly-growing "unhelpful" stack until her eyes fell upon a familiar name.

 _Marcus Ciceron Rosier._

Her heart quickened, and she quickly read a little chunk of description below his name.

 _Born 1874 in Edinburgh, Scotland. Married to Helena Zolkott. Known for inclination towards the Dark Arts. Responsible for the destruction of Ornes, a non-magic community in France in 1916. Last seen in Augsburg, Germany._

Tina skimmed the rest of the paper for further clues, but found none. She frowned at the name. He'd been in Germany, presumably from hiding. What in the world was he doing in New York?

Heaving a long sigh, she stuffed the sheet of paper into her briefcase along with the "helpful" stack. She'd attack the rest of the monstrous pile of unexamined papers tomorrow; right now, though, she was in dire need of coffee, dinner, and a certain charming man named Newt Scamander.

* * *

The Silver Phoenix was a popular wizard-only restaurant in New York. It had an elegant, spacious room with a small stage set up in the middle where live music was performed. Below the stage was a large, polished dance floor with gold and black checkered squares. Floating orbs of soft golden light hovered above each table, casting a romantic glow. A huge, glittering phoenix was carved into the wall, gliding smoothly across the wood and occasionally bursting into ashes. Waiters scurried about, taking orders and delivering food. Diners chatted and laughed as they ate their meals and listened to the silky jazz, creating a comfortable, inviting atmosphere. The smooth wooden walls were decorated with moving photographs and paintings in silver frames; the subjects would often get together for drinks, which consisted of a constant stream of hiccups and giggles and usually resulted in everyone passing out at the bottom of the frame. The hostess of the restaurant had attempted to cut off their supply of alcohol; it had worked in the beginning, and she'd gotten many resentful glares and rude words from the sulking portraits. After a month or so, however, whiskey and beer bottles had mysteriously trickled into the paintings again, creating yet another uproar.

"London hasn't got anything quite like this," Newt commented after they had been seated at a small table by a window and been served elf-made wine. Tina smiled at him, smoothing down her champagne-colored dress she'd Transfigured her work clothes into before arriving. Newt had dressed himself in a crisp forest green suit, accenting the green in his hazel eyes that Tina hadn't noticed before.

"How was your day?" she asked, propping her chin on her hand. Newt shrugged and examined the tablecloth.

"I was down in the case for most of the day. The Runespoor nearly lost its middle head- its left and right ones are rather short-tempered. The Porlock also panicked when his horse wandered off. It took quite a while for him to calm down; he's a skittish fellow." He looked up at Tina. "How about you?"

She sighed and shook her head a little. "Loads of paperwork. My supervisor wants me to find anything related to the random attacks across America and Europe." She lowered her voice. "I found some information on Rosier. Apparently he destroyed the French village of Ornes in 1916."

Newt's eyes widened. "Ornes?" he repeated shakily after a moment, his fingers tightening on his wine glass. His freckles stood out more than ever as the color drained from his face.

Concern rose up in Tina. "Is there something wrong?" she asked gently, even though it was obvious that there was.

Before he could answer a short, squat waiter stopped at their table. "What can I get for you tonight?" he asked pleasantly, a quill and paper pad hovering near him.

Tina glanced down at her menu and ordered the first thing she saw. "I'll have the mushroom fettuccine."

"And you, sir?" The waiter turned towards Newt.

"Er, the same for me as well."

"Very well." The quill scribbled down the order on the paper pad. "Anything else for you?"

Tina shook her head quickly. "No, thank you." Neither of them looked as though they had a particularly good appetite.

The waiter nodded, looking slightly disappointed. "Your meals will be out soon," he promised, the quill and paper bobbing after him as he walked away.

"My brother Theseus told the family he'd rescued a village in France named Ornes from destruction in the same year," he mumbled once the waiter had left. His face was still deathly pale. "We didn't ask much about it, we believed him- after all, he's a decorated war hero." He turned his head away, and Tina felt a rush of empathy. He'd always been alone, living in the shadow of his older brother. She too didn't have many people around her; Queenie had always been the natural charmer, and Tina was often referred to by others as "the sister".

Tina sighed and reached for Newt's free hand. "Well, we can't be sure that the records are correct." She desperately hoped she sounded convincing. Some little voice in the back of her mind hissed that Theseus was involved in the village raid, and she tried to shove it away. She hated the very thought of mistrusting Newt's brother.

Still not making eye contact, Newt laced his hand through hers and said quietly, "All the same, I'm not entirely sure I can place much as trust in my brother as before. He's head of the Auror office in the Ministry of Magic and has always kept a clean record, but he recently got himself into some troublesome business. Something involving a Dark wizard, I think. He hasn't exactly given me the details."

They sat in silence, their hands still linked together, listening as the music faded, followed by a smattering of applause from around the room. Tina watched as Newt ran his finger along the rim of his wine glass.

"I read your book last night. Three times in total, to be exact," she murmured. Newt looked up, his color coming back and his eyes regaining some of its sparkle.

"It must have been a rather dull read." He squeezed her hand slightly, though, and smiled at her. Tina shook her head, remembering the beautiful moving pictures in the book and his soothing voice floating across the pages. It had felt as if she were in the case itself with Newt by her side, a splendid, comforting sensation.

"I noticed you didn't have a Jarvey in your case," she commented, sipping her wine. Newt's hand stiffened under hers. She looked up quickly from her glass and was taken aback by the tight expression he wore on his face.

"Newt?"

He set his wine glass down forcefully on the table, making Tina jump a bit. She stared at him, speechless. What had she said to upset him?

The waiter returned inopportunely with two steaming plates and set them down before each person. "Here you are." He glanced curiously at their tense faces when neither answered, and hesitantly backed away from the table. "Let me know if you need anything," he added nervously, turning on his heel.

For a long time they both sat rigidly in their chairs, an uneasy silence hanging heavily in the air between them. The food lay untouched on their plates. Meanwhile, the band had struck up another song, a slower, more tender tune. It was a song that was currently popular with No-Majs.

 _Day is ending, birds are wending_

 _Back to the shelter of each little nest they love_

Newt's hand relaxed a little, and he finally broke the silence. "I'm sorry, Tina." He still wasn't looking at her.

 _Night shades falling, love birds calling_

 _What makes the world go round? Nothing but love_

Tina huffed a little sigh. "What for?" When he didn't reply, she leaned towards him and whispered, "Will you look at me, Newt?"

He finally raised his lovely hazel eyes to meet hers, and Tina thought she saw a wetness in them. Squeezing his hand gently, she murmured, "I should be the one who's sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

 _When whippoorwill calls_

 _And evening is nigh_

 _I hurry to my blue heaven_

Newt shook his head, and let out a shaky breath. "No, you didn't upset me," he replied softly, which Tina thought to be a huge lie. "You're right, I don't have a Jarvey in my suitcase. I'd rather not go into details."

Tina nodded, knowing it wouldn't be wise to push him. "Eat your food before it gets cold, Mr. Scamander," she said with a weak smile. He stared at her for a few moments longer with a strange look on his face, then lowered his gaze and returned her smile.

 _I turn to my right_

 _A little white light_

 _Will lead you to my blue heaven_

* * *

"I don't believe it," Tina grumped as they hurried along the street to the girls' apartment. It had started pouring buckets the second they stepped outside, drenching them both. She'd been tempted to Conjure an umbrella with her wand, but it was too risky with so many No-Majs around. Instead, they ducked their heads and raced to the shelter of an awning of a closed shop, Apparating from there.

They landed in the living space of the flat, their clothes dripping on the frayed oriental carpet. Newt quickly cast a Drying charm on both of them. Tina smiled gratefully at him and as Newt hung up his coat, she lit the fireplace with her own wand. Great orange flames immediately leapt from the firewood, filling the room with the soft, merry crackling.

A glowing slip of lavender paper on the kitchen counter caught her eye. It was a note from Queenie, saying that she would be out dancing with Jacob and wouldn't be back till very late in the evening. Smiling a little, she folded the note and set it back on the counter.

She turned towards him and leaned against the wall. "It's pouring out there," she said softly. Newt glanced at her, his hands shoved in his pockets.

"I suppose it is," he remarked, staring pointedly at the fogging window. Heat rose to Tina's cheeks as she stepped towards him.

"It's far too cold for you to go back, isn't it?" She tried desperately to voice the only thought running through her mind. _Please stay._ "I mean, you don't have to, you know-" She fumbled with her words and felt her cheeks growing even warmer.

Newt licked his lips and stared at Tina. "You'd like me to stay the night, is that it?"

She nodded helplessly. "You don't have to." She turned away a little, wishing she hadn't asked at all.

"If it's not inconvenient for you, I'd like to stay. Very much." His mouth curled up in a little smile at the last bit, and Tina laughed, feeling relief wash over her.

They settled themselves down on the pillow-strewn couch, contently watching red sparks jump from the fire and fizzle in the air. "Queenie's with Jacob," Tina mumbled sleepily. On top of her lack of sleep, that night's wine had left her feeling rather drowsy. Newt smirked and replied,

"They do have some sort of electricity between them, don't you think?" He sighed and tipped his head up, his eyes fluttering shut. A few minutes of comfortable silence passed before Newt turned his gaze to Tina.

"If you're amenable to hearing some unpleasant truths, I'd like to explain the absence of a Jarvey in my suitcase." He face was blank, though Tina noticed something flicker in his eyes. Her throat tightened, and she nodded silently.

Newt hesitated before saying slowly, "I was very close with a fellow student during my years in Hogwarts. We were both nonentities, and bonded over our passion for magical creatures. I had never met anyone quite like her. She was my first friend." He blinked, appearing lost in his own thoughts, and Tina whispered,

"Leta Lestrange."

Newt bit his lip and lowered his head. "Yes." He dug his nails so deeply into his palm that Tina worried it might start bleeding. She took his hand in hers, waiting, and he finally continued,

"One day she said she was going to try an experiment involving a Jarvey. I wasn't too worried at the time; Jarveys can give a nasty nip but are generally harmless to humans otherwise. She made me swear that I'd never tell another soul of her experiment. When I asked, all she told me was that she'd been working on a spell she thought might be perfected. What she hadn't told me was that she'd managed to nearly kill a student."

Newt stopped abruptly. Tina kept silent, watching his hand quiver in hers. Her mind had suddenly gone very numb, as if someone had cast a Freezing charm on her brain.

In a strained voice, he said bitterly, "I fell on the sword for her. Even Dumbledore's pleas weren't enough to keep me from getting expelled from Hogwarts. I'll never forget the last look she gave me when I walked out of the gates." He lifted his head, and the phrase _the calm before the storm_ immediately raced into Tina's head. Newt shuddered for a moment, hesitated, and then all at once his entire being seemed to collapse. He slumped forward and hid his face in his other hand, his body trembling.

Tina sat stiffly, numb with shock, feeling utterly helpless as she watched Newt unfold his vulnerability that he'd kept hidden away for so long. In all her life, she'd never experienced something like this. She had her moments with Queenie when the latter had meltdowns, but nothing ever like this. She hated herself for not doing anything to help him, and she hated that Newt had to go through such an ordeal at all.

"Newt," she whispered, grasping his shoulder. "Newt." He buried his head deeper into his palm. She felt her face crumple at the sight of him, a broken man who was never really whole in the first place. He had his chips and cracks, and Tina embraced every single one of them. _I have to be strong for him,_ she told herself sternly, and stood up, still holding his hand.

"Newt, could you stand up?" she murmured. He did so silently, keeping his face averted from hers. She sighed a little and gently pushed his hair from his forehead. "Look at me, Newt."

It took a while for him to meet her gaze, but once he did, she saw the overwhelming pain and frustration flooding in his eyes. She laid a hand on his cheek. "Newt, I am so, so sorry for what she did to you. You did absolutely nothing to deserve it, yet you accepted your sentence for the sake of your friend. You are incredibly selfless, and I admire you greatly for that. I promise nothing like that will happen ever again." She hoped dearly that it was the truth, and vowed to herself that she would ensure it was. She was completely unprepared for what happened next.

A breathy sigh, then a hand on her waist, then forehead meeting forehead. "Oh, Tina," he whispered, his eyes gazing into hers. Tina couldn't breathe; she was absolutely mesmerized by the way his eyes had shifted to a soft, amber hue. She was distantly aware of the smell of wine from his breath, and her eyes fluttered shut, her knees going weak. She was very certain she was falling from a great height, for her heart was thumping wildly, but she didn't much care. All she could think about was how Newt's other hand had traveled to her neck, and that he was close enough to-

"Teenie?"

Her eyes flew open in shock as the door banged open, revealing an open-mouthed Queenie.

She jolted away from Newt, her breath coming in short gasps, and she searched with her hands for some kind of support behind her. Gripping onto the top of a chair, she stared dizzily at her sister as the latter stood rooted to the spot, looking from her to Newt and back again. She was both irritated and grateful for Queenie's Legilimency, for she couldn't get a single word out.

Finally Queenie snapped her jaw shut and smiled brightly at Newt. "Hi, Mr. Scamander. I hope you had a lovely night." She sneaked a glance at Tina, whose face was rapidly turning into a brilliant shade of red. Newt flushed at her words and sputtered,

"Likewise."

Queenie grinned even wider and patted Newt's shoulder. "The spare room is all ready for you," she told Newt innocently, who bit his lip and attempted to smile back. Tina was still trying to fully catch her breath when Queenie stepped closer to her and whispered, "It's alright to let yourself fall once in a while." Then she hurried off to the hallway, calling over her shoulder, "Good night to you both."

A strained silence fell between them again, each refusing to make eye contact. Tina had been dangerously close to falling- from where to where, she didn't know. But not every plummet had a safety net.

"Your suitcase," Tina remembered suddenly, jerking her head up to Newt. He smiled crookedly and patted his pocket.

"Shrinking charm. I wouldn't leave anywhere without it."

She allowed herself a small smile and took Newt by the elbow. "You can bunk in here," she said, leading him to the spare bedroom. He nodded, staring at Tina in the strange way he'd been doing for the past few days.

"Thank you. I'm very grateful." He didn't move, though, and Tina let out a little sigh.

"I'll be down the hall if you need anything. Good night, Newt." She rose on her toes and kissed him on his cheek, then stepped out of the room quickly to flee to her own bed.

Two hours later, she was still wide awake in her bed, hugging the copy of Newt's book close to her. The rain had diminished to a light pitter-patter on the windows. Through the thin walls she could hear Queenie snoring gently in the room to the left. In the room to the right, though, all was silent.

She rolled to her side, staring at the cream wall opposite her. Tomorrow she'd have to face another long day of paperwork, which Tina was definitely not looking forward to. For now, as she ran her fingers along the spine of the book, she'd let herself fall.

* * *

A/N: Poor Newt :( He'd do anything for his close ones, but sometimes the marks don't go away. Also, expect more fluff ahead. *gives Queenie the side-eye*

Thank you so, so much for reading and feel free to leave comments below. I love hearing from you guys.


	5. Falling

A sharp tapping at the window roused Tina from her sleep. She rolled over in bed, groaning, and buried her head deeper into her pillow. "Go away," she muttered sleepily. The tapping continued, and she pulled the blankets over her head. The incessant tapping grew louder and sharper until Tina couldn't muffle it with her pillow anymore. She finally sat up, yawning widely and stretching. The bleak morning light outlined the silhouette of something at the window.

A stern-looking eagle owl was perched on the windowsill, a small piece of parchment clasped in its beak. Tina pushed the window open and caught the paper the owl dropped before it flew off. Rubbing her eyes, she flipped open the note.

 _Dear Miss Goldstein,_

 _Urgent matters to be discussed regarding Rosier. Please report to my office at nine o'clock sharp. Kindly bring Mr. Scamander with you if you can._

 _Seraphina Picquery_

Tina glanced at the clock on the wall. Half past seven. They had plenty of time. She threw on a robe, went through with her usual routine, then soundlessly crept down the hall. Queenie's door was shut; her snoring was absent, however. She hesitated in front of Newt's door, wondering if he was still asleep. Maybe he was in his case- Pickett was rather clingy, she remembered with amusement- but it would be rude to barge in.

Pressing her ear against the door, she could hear the faint scratching of a quill on parchment. She knocked gently on the door. "Newt?"

The door opened a few seconds later, revealing a pajama-clad Newt, his wild ginger curls tousled from sleep. Tina couldn't help but smile at his boyish, half-awake features. In his hand he held a battered quill and a leaf of paper.

"Good morning," he mumbled, rubbing his eyes and gazing at her. Last night's events suddenly flooded her mind. His stunning hazel eyes, his warm breath fanning her hair, the overwhelming feel of his hands on her- it all felt so surreal. She blinked, wondering absentmindedly why the room around her seemed to slide out of focus.

"Are you alright?"

Tina jolted out of her reverie, the heat rising to her cheeks. "I'm fine," she said, perhaps a little too quickly. "Did you sleep well?"

Newt nodded and fiddled with his quill. "I decided to write to my brother. I haven't heard from him in a while ever since he got himself embroiled in that Dark wizard nonsense." It was clear Newt wasn't quite ready to accept his brother's involvement.

Tina bit her lip and leaned against the doorframe. "Speaking of Dark wizards…" She held out the note President Picquery had sent her. Newt took it from her, glancing curiously at Tina before flicking it open.

She watched nervously as his face paled a bit, and hurriedly said, "You don't have to go with me, if you don't want to."

Newt shook his head, folding the note and returning it to her. "I'd like to know more about this Rosier man." He took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he straightened the feather on his quill. "Perhaps we can find out whether my brother was involved or not."

A surge of guilt washed over Tina. It was only his fourth day back in New York, yet he already found himself in another plight. She sighed and gave him a little push. "Come on, get dressed and we'll get a bite to eat."

* * *

They stopped outside a pair of large, wooden double doors with tall golden pillars set in the wall on either side. Ornate silver designs were engraved around the pillars like shimmering snakes. A small, animated statue of a serpent rested itself on a nook above the door, surveying the two with a magisterial air.

A small, plump witch scurried over to them, her curly red hair coming out of its knot. "Waiting for the President?" she inquired breathlessly, adjusting a large stack of papers in her hands. Her glasses began to slip down her nose and she pushed them up impatiently with her shoulder, a truly remarkable feat seeing as the stack she was juggling was twice the size of her.

Tina nodded. "We have an appointment with her at nine." The red-haired witch dropped the stack on the floor and a boom echoed around the hall. She looked rather relieved as she unloaded her burden.

"I've been carrying that around for an eternity," she told them exasperatedly. She spoke very fast, waving her hands about her as she did so. "Anyways…" She took out a small notebook from her coat. "Nine o'clock… Goldstein?"

"Yes."

"Alright, step back." The witch took out her wand and stepped towards the gold pillars. She placed the tip of her wand on one of the thin silver snakes and traced it along the column.

For a second, nothing happened. Then all the snakes suddenly started twisting themselves around the pillars, traveling up until they had lined themselves up horizontally on the door. The witch gave another flick of her wand, and the snakes began to glow, their light pulsing. Finally the light ebbed away, and the snakes had slithered back onto the columns, revealing an empty doorway.

"I'm sorry that it takes so long," the witch said apologetically to Newt and Tina. "But the President doesn't want to take any chances. I'm among the only people who can unlock the door." She straightened herself up a little with pride, then said, "I'm Gwyneth Cromwell, by the way. President's secretary. Come to me if you have any questions."

Then with a little wave of her wand, the stack of papers whizzed back into her arms and she was gone.

The two nervously crossed the threshold, their footsteps echoing in the spacious room. The room was dim, and only the center was illuminated by the sun pouring in from a glass dome above. A figure rose from behind a desk and stepped into the light.

"Madam President, you asked to see us?"

Picquery folded her hands. "Yes. We've questioned Rosier, and from what it looks like, he has connections with Grindelwald." She gestured to the chairs in front of her desk. "Won't you sit down?"

"Thank you, Madam President." They seated themselves, and now that they were face-to-face with Madam Picquery, Tina's nerves worsened and she hastily wiped her sweating hands on her pants.

"Apparently Marcus Rosier arrived in New York several months after the Obscurus incident. He has been planting memories into the minds of the No-Majs, some of which have reported strange dreams of flashing light and destroyed buildings.

"His mail has also been intercepted by Aurors. They discovered that some letters were addressed to Mr. Theseus Scamander."

A faint ringing filled Tina's ears as she stared at the President in shock. Newt froze and jerked his head up to meet President Picquery's icy gaze. "My brother," he whispered in a broken voice, blanching.

"The content of the letters do not prove that your brother was actively involved, Mr. Scamander. However, we still must keep a watchful eye on him. Fame can do unimaginable things to people." President Picquery studied him carefully with her dark eyes. Newt didn't respond, and Tina saw his fingers clench on the arms of his chair.

"We do not know how many No-Majs have started remembering," President Picquery continued, and Tina felt an uneasy jolt go through her as she thought of Jacob. His memories could have been restored by Rosier, she realized, and her heart sunk at the thought of Queenie finding out.

"We suspect that Rosier has accomplices with him that are wreaking havoc across the country, but it is unlikely that we'll identify all of them. The moment our Aurors arrive at the scene of destruction, the culprits disappear." Picquery's eyes flashed and she glared at Tina. "I know what you're thinking, Miss Goldstein. You may not do any fieldwork involving this case."

Tina bit her lip and glanced down at her hands, swallowing back her protests. _This is for the best,_ she told herself sternly. But she couldn't help feeling yet another wave of frustration and anger wash over her. She wasn't good enough, wasn't _strong_ enough for the team.

President Picquery leaned towards her, her brows coming together. "Miss Goldstein, don't trouble yourself with thinking you're inadequate. There is a reason why you were chosen for Graves' case. I suggest you find out what that reason is for yourself." She sat back and folded her arms, clearly indicating that the subject was closed.

Tina stared back at her speechlessly, hardly hearing the President's next words.

"I will notify you of any further news of your brother, Mr. Scamander. You may go now."

Both stood up shakily and left the office in silence. The light in the center of the room had faded, leaving the room feeling very cold indeed. It was only when they had stepped outside the Woolworth Building that Newt said weakly,

"My own brother. I don't believe it."

Tina drew in a breath of icy air and reached for Newt's hand. It was surprisingly warm, and Tina could feel the rough, calloused skin he'd gotten from working with his creatures.

"It isn't proven that he's working with Rosier," she reminded him, but he didn't seem to find any great comfort in that.

"Madam Picquery does have a point," he said flatly. "Fame can ruin people."

"But not _you_ ," Tina said firmly. "I'm sure your book is a great success back home." Newt snorted and shook his head.

"I couldn't care less about being famous. Fame was definitely not what I had in mind when I agreed to write the book."

"You thought you could write such a book and _not_ be famous?" Tina made a noise of disbelief and turned the corner to the Algonquin Hotel. "I'm afraid I can't spend the rest of the day with you," she told him quietly. "I've still got a monster of paperwork to complete."

Newt nodded, looking a bit crestfallen. "I understand. I hope all goes smoothly for you." He turned to enter the building but Tina instinctively caught at his sleeve.

"I… I'll try be back around seven," she said breathlessly. She'd never felt so… attached to someone before. What was happening to her?

Queenie's voice drifted into her mind. _It's alright to let yourself fall…_

He nodded again, a little smile spreading across his face. "Good luck, Miss Goldstein."

* * *

The clock struck seven just as Tina placed the last leaf of paper on the towering "unhelpful" stack with a huge sigh. She slumped back in her seat, rubbing her face with her hands. There were only a few slips of paper in the "helpful" stack, she noted with disappointment, and she stuffed those into her folder as she pushed herself up to stand. She'd hardly been able to focus; the words Picquery had said to her earlier kept resonating in her head.

She knocked once she reached Newt's door, hoping he'd remembered her promise to be back by seven. After a couple more minutes of knocking, however, he still hadn't answered, leaving Tina feeling extremely silly and frustrated. She glanced around before covertly pointing her wand at the lock. " _Alohomora._ "

The lock clicked and she cautiously pushed the door halfway open. "Newt?" she called uncertainly, taking a small step into the room.

No answer.

She pushed the door all the way open this time, taking a few more steps forward. She swore as she nearly tripped over something large and heavy on the ground.

It was Newt's suitcase, looking much more battered than the last time she'd seen it. Various dents and scuffs in the leather were giveaways of his later ventures, and Tina thought she saw a couple bite marks on the corners. A small, glowing slip of paper sat next to the case.

 _Tina-_

 _I'm down in the case. Try not to trod on any Puffskeins, a couple of them have broken loose of their nest. Don't worry about them. They'll find their way back to their poffer._

 _Yours,  
Newt_

Tina brushed her thumb over the last two words, her anger dissipating. Slipping the note into her coat pocket, she pushed open the suitcase and clambered in.

She shed her coat once her feet hit the ground, relieved she hadn't tripped on the way down. A small flash of caramel fur darted across her feet almost immediately and Tina hurriedly took a step back just in time. She peered down at what appeared to be a very large ball of custard-colored lint with wide green eyes. This must be the Puffskein, Tina realized, and smiled and shook her head as she skirted around it.

"Newt!" she called out again, stepping into the rainforest. Dougal the Demiguise hopped down from a tree and scampered alongside Tina. He lifted his furry arm, pointing in the direction of the ocean.

"Thanks, Dougal," she whispered, and hiked her way up towards the mossy curtain that separated the forest from the sea.

A gust of crisp ocean wind whipped around her the moment she stepped foot on the soft white sands of the beach, its salty breath planting quick kisses on her face and weaving through her hair. Trees swayed lazily to the rhythm of the evening breeze as birds cooed to each other, composing a soft, tranquil melody. Several crab-like creatures scuttled along the shoreline, emitting clicking and chirruping noises.

Night had settled like a dark scarf overhead, illuminated by the dusting of stars clustered around a sliver of the moon. A small blue fire burned off to the side of the shore, sending up sparks towards the sky. Newt lay sprawled beside the fire on a blanket, his face turned away from Tina's. She soundlessly moved towards him, her eyes crinkling in a little smile as she saw Pickett nestled against Newt's shirt.

"Newt," she murmured, kneeling next to him. He looked as though he were asleep, but the taut lines in his face told her otherwise. She drew in a breath and smoothed his hair back, and her heart did a little leap when he slowly opened his eyes. She'd never gotten used to the bold, ever-changing colors, and some part of her secretly hoped she never would.

"Hello again," he mumbled, shifting to face her. There was that strange look on his face again, and this time it sparked a flutter in her chest.

She propped herself up beside him, examining his face. The circles under his eyes had faded a bit, but new lines had appeared on his face, worry written into every one of them. His eyes had lost a little of their shine, and he looked as though he had aged about five years in one day. His mouth no longer quirked up in his charming, crooked smile.

And it was all her fault.

Trying to keep her voice even, she said quietly, "I am so sorry, Newt. For everything." And she meant truly everything- the time she'd betrayed him and his creatures; nearly getting themselves killed in the death cell; dragging him into this mess. Hot tears stung her eyes, threatening to spill over.

"I do wish you would stop apologizing, Tina." Newt's eyes were still locked on hers. "I am being completely honest when I say that none of this is your fault."

 _But it is,_ she wanted to shout. Instead she sighed deeply and rubbed her knees. "I'm afraid if you stay out here any longer you'll catch a nasty cold," she told Newt, taking out her wand and flicking it at the fire. Bright red flames shot out from the end, joining the flickering blue flames. For a few seconds, the red flames shuddered, then twisted themselves around the blue, gradually melting into a deep purple hue.

Newt watched, entranced, his eyes reflecting the dancing light. "I'm alright," he whispered, and sat up slowly, wincing. Tina turned her head sharply towards him.

"What happened?"

"Oh, er, nothing to worry about." He tried and failed miserably to suppress a yelp of pain as he straightened up.

"Has anyone ever believed you when you told them not to worry?"

A smile flashed across Newt's face. There it was- the part of him Tina had grown to adore. "You're not the first to say that, you know."

Tina helped Newt up, lifting his arm around her. "To the cottage?" she asked, and Newt nodded, his face once again drawn with exhaustion. She put out the magical fire with a wave of her wand. Pickett clung to Newt's shirt, looking up at him worriedly.

"You'll have to wait for me, Pick. I promise I won't be long." Pickett crossed his twiggy arms, but when Newt plucked him off his shirt and placed him on the sand, he blew a raspberry and stalked off.

They trudged their way through the sand to the cottage, and Tina couldn't help but notice Newt's gaze burning into her. Feeling her cheeks grow warm, she bowed her head and quickened their pace. She'd never been so self-conscious before- with her modest, practical dressing style, there wasn't exactly much to be self-conscious of. But then again, no one had ever stared at her like that before.

A small cobblestone path lay in front of them, leading up to a charming cottage. Leafy green vines crept up the side of the wooden exterior, and a bright rainbow of flowers blossomed along the path and around the house. Tina led Newt up the path, turned the knob of the door, and pushed it open.

The interior was decorated with humble but cozy furnishings. Above them hung a small, dull red spherical lamp. A small fireplace was tucked away in the corner of the room with a fluffy rug spread out before it. Placed in front of the fire was a dark green sofa, in which a Kneazle was currently snoozing in. The creature woke and leaped from the seat, however, when Newt collapsed onto the couch.

"Newt, tell me what happened." Tina perched herself on the arm of the couch and folded her arms.

Newt blew air out of the side of his mouth. "I may or may not have unintentionally offended a Runespoor today. Nothing serious." He turned his head away and Tina caught a glimpse of a long, jagged cut on his neck extending farther down towards his chest. Her stomach dropped, and she clamped a hand on his arm.

"You're not fooling anyone, Mr. Scamander. Where are your medical supplies?"

"In the cabinet in the hallway." Little beads of sweat dotted his forehead. "Really, it's nothing too bad."

Tina huffed and stood up. "I'll be the judge of that."

She removed a jar of soothing cream labeled "Lenira" and bottles of dittany and Murtlap Essence from the cabinet, then hurried back to the living room. Coaxing Newt into a lying position, she uncorked the bottle of Murtlap Essence. As she wet a piece of cotton with it, she realized with a start that she'd have to remove his shirt.

Her cheeks burned with a maddening heat. "Newt, I'll have to take off your shirt. Is that alright?" Newt nodded, his eyes half-closed. The pain must be taking its toll on him, Tina realized, and quickly unbuttoned his top.

"You fixed your shirt, and didn't bother with the wound?" She frowned at him. "And you must've fractured your shoulder, too."

Newt shrugged, wincing again, and replied, "Like I said, nothing serious."

"Right." Tina pushed his shirt back from his shoulders, and her breath hitched.

A myriad of scars spanned Newt's chiseled chest and arms, each thin, puckered line of flesh a permanent reminder of his hardships and fortitude. Many, Tina knew, were inflicted by beasts- his very own creatures. And yet, he loved each and every one of them with all his heart. He accepted his creatures for who they were and never tried to force them out of their comfort zone. She'd seen how worried he'd been for the creatures that escaped from his suitcase, and now, as she examined the fresh cut, she wondered if he'd ever learn to worry about himself.

" _Tergeo._ " She pointed her wand at the cut, and the dried blood instantly vanished. She looked up at Newt and as she raised the piece of cotton soaked with Murtlap Essence, she said apologetically, "This might sting a bit."

Newt clenched his teeth as Tina pressed the cotton to the wound, then hissed a little as she applied more pressure. The tender flesh began to close slowly, gradually fading into a faint pink patch. She wet another piece of cotton with Essence of Dittany and swiped it gently over the healed wound.

"Are you alright?" she asked. Newt nodded, avoiding her gaze.

Tina picked up her wand again, holding it over Newt's shoulder. "I'm afraid this will hurt more." She hadn't used this Healing spell in years. She tried to keep her wand steady as she tapped his shoulder and murmured, " _Ferula._ "

Newt yelped as the bones mended with a sickening crunch. Tina flicked her wand again and a burst of icy wind shot out, bandaging his shoulder.

She dipped a finger into the jar of Lenira and rubbed the cream gently along his bruised jaw. He was staring at her again, and she studiously ignored him as she applied more to his shoulder.

"All done," she said after a few silent beats.

Newt released a shaky sigh, his eyes fluttering shut from exhaustion. "Tina…"

She moved closer, kneeling on the floor next to him. "Does it hurt much?" she asked nervously. Newt shook his head, his eyes opening again to meet hers, and she was alarmed to find that tears had gathered in them.

"Newt, if it hurts, just tell me." Her hand hovered over her wand, prepared to cast another Healing spell.

He shook his head again, a faint flush coming over his cheeks as he whispered, "You are exceptionally beautiful, Tina."

Tina's heart skipped a beat. Beautiful. He'd said she was beautiful. Perhaps he was a little muddled from the healing process, she thought, her head spinning wildly. She opened her mouth to suggest going back up, but no words came out. Instead, all she could do was stare dazedly at him.

He slowly sat up, his eyes still trained on hers. "You're beautiful," he repeated, even softer this time. Tina fought to catch her breath as she stood up unsteadily.

"I… that…" were unfortunately the only words Tina could get out, for Newt had gotten up and carefully cupped her jaw.

"I… I like you very much, Tina, and I hope you'll forgive me when I say I might like to kiss you now." His face flushed a maddening shade of red, and he averted his gaze, as if expecting her to laugh at him. Instead, she tried to focus on catching her breath and finally managed to choke out,

"You don't need to apologize."

Newt turned his eyes back on hers. "Alright."

His eyes fluttered shut and he pressed his lips gently against hers. Tina's knees nearly gave out, and the thrilling feel of falling filled her again. She kissed him back firmly despite the voices in her mind frantically screaming at her to push him away, that she was too vulnerable. But at the same time, they were telling her that _yes_ , this was exactly what she wanted. She wanted Newt, badly. And for the first time, she understood what Queenie meant about letting go.

Newt's hands slid from her cheek to her shoulders until they finally settled on her waist, tugging her closer towards him. She gasped as he suckled her bottom lip and wound her hands in his soft caramel waves, adoring the helpless moan that escaped from his lips. Jumping at the opportunity, she let her tongue trace the roof of his mouth. Newt held her tighter against him, and she could feel his racing heartbeat. She wondered if he could hear her own wildly thumping heart.

She should be frightened of how close they'd gotten in only a few days. She should be stepping back and apologizing. She should be ashamed of losing her ground.

Instead, as their lips tentatively explored each other, she took the first step forward to finally letting go.

To her disappointment, Newt pulled back from her, his face flushed. "Is this alright?" he asked her breathlessly.

She nodded, ignoring the little voice in the back of her head. _No, it's not, because I'm falling again. I'm falling for you._

She pushed the voice away and kissed him again, gentler this time. Through the open window she distantly heard the crashing of waves on the shore, the faraway squawking of birds, the calming rustle of leaves on trees. For a moment, everything seemed so tranquil that she forgot about her Auror work and the shocking events of that day. In this little blue heaven, nothing else mattered.

"I'm very glad you're back," she whispered for the millionth time, and she never meant it more than she did now. He chuckled softly against her lips.

"So am I."


	6. Puzzle Piece

Tina had watched the sunrise several times from her bedroom window- she'd seen how the buildings glowed with the waking sun, how the bleak sky warmed to a gorgeous, mellow orange hue, how New Yorkers trickled out of their buildings, one by one, their stiff monotone clothing a stark contrast to the golden backdrop. The view from Newt's window, though, was nothing like that of the city. The sun still painted the sky with the same rich splashes of color, but the outline of buildings against the sky took the form of lazy, swaying trees, and the rumbling roar of automobiles gave way to the patient lapping of the waves. The bustling pedestrians were replaced by a small clump of plump birds cooing gently to one another, waddling among the pebbles.

As she sat watching the sun slowly climb the sky with the comforting weight of Newt's head on her shoulder, her mind drifted to memories of simpler days, happier years. Her mother cradling her head as she read her favorite bedtime story. Her father beaming at the astounded expression on her face as he Conjured beautiful, twirling snow figures. Little Queenie, all smiles and rosy cheeks, peppering her with light kisses and hugs. Their parents merrily clapping and singing along to the sisters' performances. Their private, comfortable life in New York City was nothing less than perfect.

A week after Tina's ninth birthday, her perfect world collapsed.

Never would she forget the agonizing rasps and moans from her parents' hospital ward, the scent of death thick in the air.

Never would she forget the solemn white cloth over the plain wooden coffins, fluttering in the mournful wind, obscuring death from the living, life from the dead.

Never would she forget Queenie's little arms wrapped painfully tight around her as they laid bouquets of flowers one by one on the graves, vibrant yellows and purples against cold, dull greys and browns.

Even if she lived till the end of all days, she would never forget. Some things were simply too deeply drilled into her mind. Too vivid. Too painful.

As she lowered her gaze to her folded hands, feeling the stillness of the room settle once more around her, she thought numbly, _Too quiet._

The weight on her shoulder shifted, and she looked over just in time to see Newt's eyes fluttering open, his face dappled with the light of the newly risen sun. His eyes met hers, and for a split second Tina saw her mother's blue eyes swimming faintly beneath them. A distant, murmuring voice drifted to her ears. _Tina… Rise and shine, pumpkin._

"Good morning," said Tina softly. _Momma…_

Newt sat up slowly, his eyes never leaving her face, and his lips spread into a crooked smile. "Good morning."

 _Newt_. The fist around her heart eased. "How are you feeling?"

Newt carefully rolled his shoulder back. "Fine," he said, his eyes softening. "Thank you." The tips of his ears suddenly turned pink. "I... I didn't do anything... _stupid_ last night, did I?"

Memories of last night flooded Tina's mind immediately, cleansing it of any lingering thoughts, and the blood rushed to her cheeks. "Um... stupid?" she said weakly, feeling a sharp pang in her chest and attempting to appear unaffected.

"Or something... anything that I should know about, anything important. Runespoor venom isn't particularly harmful to wizards, but it does induce memory loss." He looked at her expectantly.

Tina's heart skipped a beat. "Oh—" She shook her head forcefully. "No, nothing at all."

ooooo

("Nothing at all, my broom," said the bathroom mirror sleepily. Tina scrubbed her face vigorously with a fluffy towel, wondering if she could remove the searing flush from her face if she tried hard enough.

"It's better that he doesn't remember," she said firmly to her reflection. The mirror emitted an odd noise of dubiousness in response.

"Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart.")

ooooo

After both of them had washed up, they retreated to the kitchen, settling for a light breakfast of buttered toast, sausages, and tea ("Americans can make a decent cup, too," Tina had said ruefully when Newt had hurriedly pulled the tea kettle towards him before she could get to it). They ate their meal in silence, their forks clinking gently against the china, the soft, sleepy chirrups of the waking birds drifting through the open window. The sun filtered through the delicate leaves on the maples and painted hazy, flickering images on the wooden table.

Newt squinted into the light. "It must be nearly seven… and a Wednesday."

Tina nodded, the realization settling like a cold, grey stone in her stomach. "Still time left," she assured him. Newt's eyes settled on hers, then flicked away.

She herself wasn't convinced.

She got to her feet, her aching muscles stiffening in protest, and extended a hand towards Newt. "I think some fresh air could do you some good."

* * *

The wet sand squelched beneath their feet as they meandered along the shore, the salty wind blowing their hair wildly about their face. Ocean mist clung to their skin, and the sun-tinted water appeared darker, more restless. Little whispers of ripples appeared on its surface as tiny silver fish flicked their long tails.

In the distance, the mournful cry of a bird floated across the waves.

Tina shivered as a fresh gust of icy wind whipped around her. Giving her an apologetic look, Newt explained, "I have to keep the temperature down in the winter transition for the Horned Serpent. She's still adapting to her new environment."

"You'll catch a cold," Tina protested as Newt draped his coat over her. He shook his head, a smile playing on his lips.

"I've grown used to it. My mother used to take me up to the mountains during the autumn season to see some of her hippogriffs."

"Your mother bred hippogriffs?"

Newt nodded. "I still have pictures," he said, his eyes twinkling. A squat bird landed nearby on the shore, preening its snowy feathers.

Tina smiled up at him; his happiness was simply contagious. "I'd love to meet your mother someday."

Something in his eyes flickered for a second before he shifted his eyes to the ocean, biting his lip. A golden ray of sunlight fell and pierced the tossing waters, flickered faintly, and finally dissolved into the ocean like thousands of tiny diamonds. Another bird, a large, golden-brown beast, joined the squat one on the sand. The snowy bird twitched its wings and hid its head among layers of feathers.

"Tina… there's something I haven't told you yet," he said slowly after a few moments. His smile had faded, and his eyes were once again dull, lightless, exhausted.

A cold dread stole over Tina. She clutched Newt's coat tighter around her, waiting nervously.

"I should have told you sooner, but…" He hesitated, then rummaged in his pocket and extracted a folded slip of parchment. Taking it from him with trembling fingers, Tina unfolded the paper and read:

 _Dear Mr. Scamander:_

 _Please note that you are due at Ministry by the tenth of November. Several changes have been made to your schedule to accommodate book signings and related events. A Ministry escort has been arranged to meet you upon arrival. We await your return._

 _Avisceus Shafiq_

 _Head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures_

Shimmering faintly at the bottom of the page was the lavender Ministry of Magic stamp, the words _IGNORANTIS JURIS NON EXCUSAT_ circling a large "M" and a wand emitting a spark.

The tenth.

A sudden prickling rose to her eyes, and panic bubbled in her chest. She couldn't cry, not in front of Newt- but she couldn't explain the stone of disappointment sticking in her throat, the sudden, bitter dryness in her mouth, the aching numbness in her legs.

He was leaving, and he hadn't even had a proper stay in the city. He'd given Tina his book- his marvelous, _beautiful_ book- and in return she'd shoved him into further confusion, chaos, and cataclysm.

All her fault.

The words on the page blurred as she gripped the paper tightly and looked helplessly at him, her chest tightening.

"That's tomorrow," she said quietly, fighting to keep the quiver out of her voice.

"I promise I'll be back," Newt said quickly. "I'll be back, as soon as I can. The Ministry's an absolute mess at the moment, and they're scrambling to get all of their employees back at work. The Minister isn't taking Grindelwald seriously, and the last thing the Ministry needs is for their workers to be just as negligent." He bit his lip, looking utterly hopeless.

 _It's not his fault_ , Tina reminded herself sternly, gathering his coat's material tightly in her fist.

They stood opposite each other, neither one daring to speak. The letter in Tina's hand fluttered between them, the purple stamp basking complacently in the bleak sunlight. A hot surge of loathing rose within her and she resisted the urge to burn a hole in where the stamp was printed.

 _Tomorrow._

Tina finally found her voice and forced a weak smile. "I guess we'd better make the most of the time left." Her voice came out as cracked, vulnerable- and she hated it. This was the voice of a stranger- a familiar one that she'd catch glimpses of in the mirror before quickly looking away- who'd tallied the number of days until she'd get to leave for school, who'd shamed the Goldstein name with her demotion, who'd struggled to keep herself and her sister alive on two Dragots a week.

Newt's eyes flicked to the stamp, then to the horizon, and finally settled on Tina, a dim glint returning to the surface. "I suppose so."

Their hands met halfway, and Tina's cheeks burned with both overwhelming guilt and relief as Newt's lips parted in his smile. He brushed a calloused thumb along her knuckles and tilted his head upwards. "Shall we head back up?"

Tina laced her fingers through his and squeezed gently. "I think Mr. Kowalski is waiting for a certain magical friend, whether he knows it or not."

* * *

They were back in the bustling city streets of New York, lost in the roaring automobiles and incessant chatter of pedestrians. Tina had exchanged Newt's coat for her own when they'd stopped by the apartment, awkwardly muttering something about leaving her money in the pockets and ignoring the smile that flickered on his face.

Now, Tina led Newt along the sidewalk, weaving through crowds of people and the occasional cart, until they finally reached a little shop tucked between two large, drab buildings- a golden coin among grey stones. Newt stopped in his tracks.

"Merlin's beard," he breathed.

Through the polished glass windows, Tina could see Jacob happily bumbling around his bakery, helping customers at the register and arranging the breads in the display cabinets as he whistled contentedly. Leaning against the counter was Queenie, gazing at Jacob with an expression of pure adoration. He passed by to peck her cheek and whisper something in her ear, eliciting a wide grin from her.

Tina glanced sideways when she heard a tremulous sigh. With a light dusting of snow peppering his hair and coat, Newt was gazing longingly at the warm, inviting scene like a child in a dream- wide, awestricken eyes, a gaping mouth, a faint flush staining his cheeks. His hands were clasped tightly on the handle of his case that he held in front of him, the pink slanting scars standing out rigidly against his pale knuckles. His breath rose in little puffs in the smoky coldness.

She reached out tentatively and rested her hand lightly on his arm. "I think all your friends here have done enough waiting for you," she teased gently. "Don't keep Jacob in line any longer."

Newt chewed his bottom lip, surveying the shop with an apprehensive hopefulness. His eyes flicked to Tina's, catching and holding her gaze with such breathtaking intensity that she couldn't look away.

He pressed a trembling hand to the gold-framed door, hesitated, and glanced once more to her. She nodded encouragingly at him, willing herself not to show her own trepidation.

"It's not often you get to make a second first impression, Mr. Scamander."

* * *

"Oh. You're sweet, honey." Queenie giggled, touching his arm, a lovely blush creeping up her cheeks. Jacob pecked her cheek one last time before returning to the register.

"Sleep well last night, Mrs. Dubois?" he asked the elderly woman waiting at the counter, ringing up her purchases.

She shook her head wearily. "The dreams are coming back, and to be completely honest, I'm starting to hate going to bed. The little ones are starting to have 'em too."

Jacob sighed and pushed her package across the counter. "I wish I could do something," he said wistfully. "But let me know if anything happens, alright?"

Mrs. Dubois smiled sadly and shuffled off. Jacob passed his hands restlessly over his face, his own smile fading. His customers were _unhappy_ \- which was exactly what he'd been striving to eliminate since the war. It wasn't his fault, he knew- but he couldn't suppress the guilt that rose up within him every time he caught wind of another wave of restless and fearful nights. He turned to his next customer and forced a smile as he absentmindedly counted the pastries on the tray, his mind numb and aching with a strange, leaden weight.

Beside him, Queenie stiffened.

The bell at the door jingled tentatively as though someone were trying to slip in without being noticed. Jacob looked up, momentarily distracted, then did a double take as his eyes latched onto the figure before him.

He'd dreamed often of a whirlwind of colors- rosy pink, dusty gold, sturdy grey, and a curious shade of blue. It was a jigsaw puzzle- he'd managed to place the pink and grey pieces, but everyday he'd find himself searching for _that_ blue, the vibrant blue New York City didn't have in its foggy mass of greys and blacks and browns.

And suddenly, here it was. His missing puzzle piece.

He stood rooted to the spot, his mouth agape and eyes wide with disbelief, and mechanically pushed the brown paper package across the counter towards his customer. His eyes never left the blue-green ones across from him as thoughts chased each other wildly in his head. _British guy... wizard... creatures... friend..._

"Mister— _Newt?_ " he said hoarsely.


End file.
